


Miranda's birthday

by Millgirl



Series: Miranda's Sabbatical [7]
Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-19 15:07:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22146220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Millgirl/pseuds/Millgirl
Summary: Remember when Andrea had a cold over Christmas? Well Miranda has caught it, and Andrea suggests they fly off to somewhere warm.
Relationships: Miranda Priestly/Andrea Sachs
Series: Miranda's Sabbatical [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1490903
Comments: 29
Kudos: 181





	1. Singing the Blues

“Seventeen down: Painted miseries. Five letters.”

Miranda reached for another paper handkerchief and raised her eyebrows. “Are you making fun? That’s so easy.”

“Oh?” Andy was sitting at the other end of the couch from her, both their feet snuggled under a warm throw, as they sat facing each other sideways together in front of the living room fire. The lamps were already lit, and the couch was awash with the Sunday papers, and all the many supplements. 

Cassidy was lying on the hearth-rug on her stomach, reading a novel about life on a wagon-train, while Caroline was trying to teach Matilda, their new Bichon puppy, to sit on her bottom for more than ten seconds. It was a normal Sunday afternoon in mid-January, they were all at home in the town-house, and the weather outside on the New York streets was atrocious.

“The Blues, or Blues.”

“Oh, of course. Sometimes I can’t see what’s in front of my face.”

“Hmm!” Miranda blew her nose and shivered. “That’s true. If you had one ounce of sensitivity, my love, you’d see how I’m suffering, put down that damned crossword puzzle and go and fetch me another hot lemon drink.”

It had taken a full three weeks, but Miranda had fallen victim to the same cold virus which had recently threatened to spoil Andy’s Christmas, and was now sneezing her way through the middle of it. It made her as grumpy and difficult as she’d sometimes been in the early days of their acquaintance, what with sleepless nights coughing, a raging sore throat and the conviction she wouldn’t even live to see her fiftieth birthday in a few days’ time. 

That gruesome anniversary was another major reason for her current bad mood. It seemed to be taking her further and further away from Andrea, who wouldn’t catch her up again to be merely twenty-four years younger until the following September. She couldn’t see one redeeming feature in reaching a half century.

“Now, my precious, don’t be so forlorn. I will go down to the kitchen immediately and fix you one of Cara’s bombshell lemon and honey sizzlers. With something from the top shelf to finish it off.”

Neither twin noticed what Andy had said, definitely a good thing, as they were fiendish when it came to limiting their parents’ intake of alcohol, especially in the middle of a Sunday afternoon. Andrea unwound herself from Miranda’s legs, pushed back the woollen throw and the pile of newsprint and stood up. The puppy Matilda, or Tilly, as they were already regrettably calling her, instantly jumped up as well and rushed for the door in front of her. Wherever Andrea went, she wanted to be there first.

It had only been a week since they had all collected Tilly from her breeder, but Miranda and her daughters had already realised that Andy had an almost Dr Doolittle like ability to communicate with both their recently acquired pets, and there was no point fighting it. Pumpkin the ginger kitten, was still in a massive sulk about the latest addition to the family, but had at least stopped hissing at her and stretching himself up to look like the fiend from Hell whenever she came into the kitchen. Andrea had had several long talks to him about manners, and he was trying to accept this new awful reality of having to share her with someone else, and a dog at that.

As she waited downstairs for the water to boil for Miranda’s drink, Andrea watched the young animals interact together. Matilda was ridiculously too small, white and fluffy to be realistically classed as a dog yet, but she already had a dog’s brave heart. She was also incurably friendly, and Pumpkin really didn’t stand much chance against such a charm offensive. 

Andy squeezed out a nicely large Florida lemon, added a generous amount of honey and hot water, and then reached up for the hidden bottle of Scotch. With luck this mixture might scare Miranda’s cold into a retreat. Goodness knows the poor woman had suffered enough, twice or three times as long as she had herself. No wonder she had the blues, or in Miranda’s case, the grumps. 

She carried a large mug of the steaming hot liquid upstairs and hoped it might help improve matters. She could charm her lover better than anyone else in the world, but hard liquor and honey would probably work better in soothing the savage breast. 

Later that night, after the girls had gone to bed, Andy sat again with Miranda on the couch, but this time had Miranda’s head resting on her knees with the Welsh wool throw covering her slim body. She was still stricken with cold, but much more docile. She just wanted to be cuddled and loved, and of course Andrea was her very own official cuddle-bunny. She was currently fondling her hair and rubbing the small of her back, which did definitely stop it aching so much.

“Feel any better, darling?”

“Yes. I’m sorry I was such a monster earlier.”

“You weren’t at all. It’s a symptom of the cold anyway. Remember how grumpy I was, even saying you were stupid in front of the twins when I was sickening with it! Grumpiness is part of life. We all have to simply forgive ourselves as we go along. No-one’s a saint.”

“You’re so flipping forgiving and positive all the time, so perfect and loving. How do you do it?”

“Are you being sarcastic? You sound like Lily, who actually cited that as one reason she finds it almost impossible to be around me.”

“No. I genuinely want to know. I wish I had one percent of your sweet spirit. At the moment I feel just a scratchy ball of bitchiness. I hate myself and I know I don’t deserve you. Please don’t leave me, will you, despite my appalling nature.”

“Miranda, darling!” Andrea grabbed her shoulders and held her as tightly against her as she could. “Please don’t even say such a horrible thing. I could never, ever leave you! I worship you, worship the footprints in the snow where your boots have left a mark. You know what you do to me, the power you have over me.”

She paused and just let the words sink in. Miranda could spin from being a scary dominatrix to a crying baby within a few seconds, but the band round both their hearts was surely unbreakable. 

“I know. I’m being ridiculous. It’s the post-Christmas blues. I’m sorry, again, if I scared you. I just love you so much, and tonight I feel so old, so unattractive, hardly worth anyone’s trouble.”

“Lack of Vitamin D, that’s your only problem. I know, let’s go somewhere sunny, for your birthday! Cara will take good care of the girls and the animals. Let’s just jet off somewhere. “

Andy so rarely demanded treats or suggested any extravagances that Miranda took real notice this time. She sat up, collected the disgusting mess of her discarded tissues on the floor by the couch, and gave her a positive nod of the head and something resembling a big smile.

“For a pip-squeak, you do sometimes have the very best ideas! That’s exactly what we need. And if we’re away, Nigel stands no chance of organising some hideously embarrassing birthday bash for me. I’ve been fearing the worst, as he knows the date and had a gleam in his eye when he last mentioned it.”

“So where shall we go?”

Miranda stood up, continued to tidy the room in silence and then said, “Laguna, Laguna Beach.”

“Laguna? Where’s that?”

“It’s a little town about an hour south of L.A. We did a shoot there several years ago, and I’ve always wanted to return. It’s just the sort of place you’d like. Look in the paper and see what the weather’s doing in Southern California right now.”

“O.K. You know I’ve never been to Southern California!”

“In that case we must definitely go.”

Andy flipped through the various sections of the Sunday paper until she reached the national weather reports. “Orange County?”

“Yes.”

“Max temps for this week 78F, minimum 66F. Sounds perfect. When can we go? I’m already getting excited.”

“Three days’ time. Then we can stay for a week. My cold should be less contagious by then. I don’t want to inflict it on unwary fellow passengers on a flight.”

“Will the twins be very sad?”

“I hope not. Geoff and Cindy are due to have them next weekend anyway. If we fly back after my birthday, we can all enjoy a dinner together in the evening. How does that sound?”

“It sounds wonderful. Now let’s get you up to bed. I think you might sleep better tonight.”

“You can go in the guest room of course, if you’d rather, or I could,” said Miranda, conscious she had broken Andrea’s sleep for several nights in a row.”

“No, of course not!”

Andrea bundled Miranda up to bed, rubbed her cold feet and soothed her hot forehead with a wet facecloth, and then held her gently until she slept. As she had hoped, Miranda did sleep through the night, only charming Andy with little chipmunk like snuffles and grunts as she fell into a deep dream. So they were off to California, not by wagon train, but by the marvels of modern aviation. She couldn’t wait!


	2. Up, up and away.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrea and Miranda take to the skies.

Chapter 2.   
The aeroplane banked steeply as it circled up above the skyscrapers of Manhattan and Andy looked down at the intensity of the urban civilisation below her. Then they rose another two hundred feet and grey clouds blew up past the window, great billowing banks of moisture which obscured the city skyline, and blocked the view of what she now thought of as her home town. 

She spoke to Miranda without turning her head. 

“Oh well, I always do try to look down and search for the town-house, silly as it is, I know.”

Miranda replied, “I always prefer looking up, enjoying the feeling of lift as the blue sky comes back into sight. Winter days when the clouds are so low make me really claustrophobic. In fact, the older I get, the more phobias I realise I do have!” 

With those words she reached across and held Andrea’s hand in hers as they sat together in the Business section of the plane. She was happy they were on their way. She had her precious girl to herself, and their trip had no objectives other than to have fun, enjoy some winter sunshine and regain some fitness after a stinker of a cold and being shut in too much over the last few weeks.

Andy squeezed her fingers in return and they smiled at each other, simultaneously sharing the same thought. “Oh, isn’t she gorgeous? How I do love her!”

Miranda’s sneezing and sore throat was now a thing of the past, thank God. Her singing voice might have gone from first Soprano down to second Alto, but the cold hadn’t penetrated deep into her chest. This was one benefit of quitting, (well if she was honest, almost quitting) smoking. One cigarette a week hardly counted, did it? And since Andrea had moved in with her and she had stepped out of Runway her stress levels had crashed so much she hardly ever craved even that much nicotine. 

A trip to the hair-salon, and the energy to once again apply her makeup properly had returned Miranda Priestly to her normal levels of immaculate perfection, and plenty of soothing balm and the best face cream had restored her complexion to peaches and cream. Miranda felt and looked pretty damn fantastic! 

People in and around the Airport terminal had recognised her, so there would probably be a few pictures on social media and the Red Tops later. She’d tried to capitalize on that by grabbing and holding Andy’s hand as they went through the various gates to Departures.

She always enjoyed showing off her beautiful companion, but Andrea, as usual had attempted to hide behind her or the luggage trolley. Without her long hair though, she’d found it harder to shield her face, and wearing dark glasses in January in New York simply looked ridiculous.

Miranda was the opposite of embarrassed to be seen out with Andy, and now the girl’s recovery from her head injury was complete she recklessly wanted to flaunt her everywhere. Andy, as she did so often, seemed to pick up her thoughts intuitively. She knew all about Miranda’s tricks and her tendency to show off. 

“It will be so nice to be on the West Coast, where we won’t be such a news item,” she murmured, nestling against Miranda’s shoulder. 

“Oh, I’ve booked an interview with Ellen, didn’t I tell you?”

“Miranda, you haven’t!”

For one terrible second Andrea thought she might have done just that. She wouldn’t put it past her. But Miranda only chuckled, and said, “No, of course not, darling. I wouldn’t give you more kittens than we have already. But don’t be too upset if we get a little press attention. Runway is very big on the West Coast.”

“At least we’re not going into LAX. I’d never even heard of John Wayne Airport, but it looks handy for Laguna.”

“It’s perfect, and I’ve pre-booked a sports car for us at the airport, so if the weather’s as good as predicted, we can have the roof down some of the time.”

“And the hotel?”

“One of the best. On the cliff top above the smaller beach.”

“I suppose, knowing you, my darling diva, you’ve booked us the best room going.”

“Naturally. In fact as soon as I gave my name, they upgraded us to a suite. For once my darling, we are going to enjoy the finest I can arrange. I just want thoroughly to spoil you. You’ve been through so much and you never think of putting yourself first.”

“I love that I am in love with an Editor! For even when she says sweet nothings, she would die rather than split an infinitive!”

“Nonsensical child! Now pass me the menu card. Let’s see what choice of appalling food is on offer up here in the stratosphere.”

The trip across the continent went well, despite some turbulence as they approached the Rockies, and then Andrea had the pleasure of her window-seat once more as they swung south over the huge panoply of freeways across the Los Angeles basin. It was her first view and the size of the conurbation took her breath away.

Miranda who had flown back and forth from NYC to L.A. more times than she could remember, watched her young lover’s face light up, and vicariously enjoyed her enthusiasm. Andy’s short haircut made her look even younger than she was, and her tight blue jeans, leather biker jacket and silky white tee shirt emphasised her adorable figure and long legs.

Miranda drank in the sight of her enjoying the view out of the window. She suddenly felt a red-hot spark of lust ignite between her legs and her stomach, and if she could, she would have leaped on top of Andrea, opened her jeans button and zip, and accosted her there and then. 

“Steady, tiger!” she inwardly growled to herself. Such carnal thoughts were most inappropriate for a middle-aged woman with white hair and a fiftieth birthday looming. Or were they? Maybe there was life enough in her old bones yet. She decided to stop being maudlin about her age and just get on with it. It didn’t seem to bother Andrea at all, so why should it bother her? 

One thing did bother her though about the passing of time, and it had been growling around her insides ever since she had remembered the full details of her childhood back in early September. She had run her life as though she was an orphan without siblings, unconnected to anyone apart from her daughters. But there was definitely something out there in the universe trying to connect her up with people she had lost. She felt like a major piece was missing from the jig-saw of her life, and had an urge to find it.

She knew for a certain that she had unknown siblings who were just a few years older than her on her father’s side, and those two twin little half- brothers on her mother’s, born when she was four. The memory of their tiny faces, before they and her mother had been whisked away to hospital, had started to haunt her dreams. She wanted to find out about them before she was much older. Maybe they hadn’t even survived, but she needed to know. 

She might possibly someday even then be able to give her twins some new cousins. Geoff had been an only child as well, so there had been slim pickings so far. They’d been warmly welcomed into Andy’s extended family, which would make up to some extent, but Caroline and Cassidy surely deserved to know their own flesh and blood. It was another worthy project for the rest of her sabbatical break from Runway. 

“Look, the sea! I can see the Pacific!”

Andy plucked at her sleeve and pulled Miranda’s head out of her reverie. The plane circled out over the water, and then started a planned, smooth descent into John Wayne airport, the perfect launch-pad for all of Orange County and the countless small cities and developments which were filling in the coast-line south from Los Angeles down to San Diego. As they approached the landing, the skies stayed clear and an azure blue. It was going to remain warm and sunny for the rest of the day. 

The clocks had reverted back three hours from New York, so it was still early afternoon. Andrea automatically took the role of personal assistant as they went through Arrivals, and sorted the baggage and a trolley, until they were met by a man with a sign saying “Priestly.” It was a personal service to escort them and their luggage to the car-hire pickup, and within thirty minutes they were outside in the sunshine, standing next to a beautiful blue Mercedes convertible. Miranda held up the keys, as she put on her sunglasses against the glare. 

“Mind if I drive?”

“Of course not.”

They both settled into the car, with their luggage safely stowed, and Miranda fed in details of their destination into the GPS system. 

“It’s really not far at all. We’ll be sipping Bellinis on the balcony in no time.”

“Let’s go Thelma!”

“I am not driving you or me either over any cliff, darling. Let’s just enjoy our little vacation.”

The car’s engine purred into life, and the automatic transmission did all the work. Miranda simply obeyed the GPS woman’s dulcet instructions, and steered the car out onto the Freeway. They were in California, her cold had vanished and she was in a new car with her heart’s desire sitting beside her. It was going to be a lovely day in the neighbourhood!


	3. A little of what you fancy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miranda and Andrea arrive in Laguna. Time for a Siesta?

The road into Laguna ran down a long canyon from the San Diego freeway, and while the earlier winter rains had turned the landscape lush and green, they could see how the wild natural scrub and open hillsides were gradually being nibbled away by new housing developments. In a decade or so, the whole area would probably be built up, unless there were restrictions on planning, and even in January the climate now was hot and dry. Yellow dust blew up behind their car.

Andrea had not visited Southern California before and thought it definitely had a different feel to both the East Coast and her section of the rolling mid-west, through Ohio and the belt northwards to the great Lakes. Mexican influence could be seen everywhere, in the names of places and roads, and in the number of Mexican eateries and businesses they passed. It was an expansive country, but also rocky and unforgiving in places. She could see houses perched precariously along the tops of the canyons with roads curling round and round up very steep inclines. 

The wooded valley road they were taking however sent them due west, just a few miles to the little town of Laguna on the coast. Miranda had said it was a place she’d enjoy, so Andy was keen to see if this was true. 

As soon as they drove into the centre, she could see what Miranda had meant. The sidewalks were full of tourists strolling about, and the open air cafés and restaurants were all serving late lunches to clients relaxing in shorts and singlets as though it was mid-summer.

Art galleries and funky fashion boutiques seemed to be the main businesses, and as they turned right at the beach she could see young people playing beach volley-ball on the white sand. It was a week-day, but it looked like the week-end. 

“Don’t these people have work-places they should all be in?” she laughed.   
“Yes, Miss Scrooge, shocking isn’t it? Maybe they are on sabbatical like us, or just enjoying life.”

Miranda purred the car up the hill and swung into the forecourt of a five star hotel. It had uninterrupted views of the Pacific Ocean and the beaches below. The gardens were bright with flowering trees and shrubs, blossoms which would not venture out for at least another four months in New York. As they left the car, Andy breathed in the smell of jonquils and early lilac. 

“Wonderful!”

“Yes, this is very like I remember it being. Laguna doesn’t disappoint.”

Once they were welcomed into the hotel, shown to their suite, and their cases brought up, they were left in peace. Andy then noticed a large arrangement of flowers on the coffee table and saw a card attached. She let Miranda open it and saw her smile. 

“Is it from the management? We don’t know anyone here, do we?”

Miranda passed her the card. “See for yourself. It’s a gift from an old friend of mine I told we were coming, someone I want you to meet.”

Andrea read the message, “Beautiful Miranda, you return! Come and visit soon!” And a cell-phone number. Then “Gloria.” The writing was large, spiky and confident, written in ink, not a ball-point.

“Who is she? How do you know her?”

Andrea’s questions were gentle enough, but this was enough of a surprise to unsettle her slightly. Why hadn’t Miranda mentioned this friend before? How would it change the dynamic between them to include a third person?”

“Gloria was someone who mentored me when I first came to the States. She was a very well-known columnist in New York twenty years ago, but she’s retired out here with her partner. They’ve been together for decades, and are leading lights of the lesbian scene in Laguna. I want to show you off to them.”

“Oh, so I’m like your trophy wife?”

“Nailed it in one, baby!”

Miranda had taken Andrea’s arm and led her out through the balcony doors to stand and look at the beautiful view together. She had shed her own jacket and now tugged Andy’s leather one off her shoulders. She held her tightly against her breast and nuzzled her ear. Part of her wanted to take Andrea walking down to the beach, but the other, more persistent voice in her head wanted to roll into bed with her, then and there, and postpone sight-seeing to the next day. 

“What would you like to do, honey? Shall I call Gloria and ask if she’d like to join us here for dinner later, or leave it until tomorrow?”

Andy looked at her watch. It said 4pm west coast time, so they had plenty of time before dinner.

“Why not call and see how she and her partner are fixed. But don’t make dinner too early. Something in me is calling out for a couple of hours’ siesta time right now, if you’d care to join me.”

“Music to my ears,” murmured Miranda, who had already unfastened Andrea’s bra. “I’ll call her now, while you slip between the sheets. And I’ll also call Cara and the girls, to say we’ve arrived safely and see how they have fared at school. It will be seven o’clock there already.”

Andrea escaped and explored the shower, washing off all the dust and creases after their long journey. Then, wrapped only in one of the huge Hotel towels, she lay on the king-size bed and waited for her lover.   
When Miranda herself took a shower and then came to join her, it was in a cloud of her favorite perfume and little else. She slipped between Andy’s legs like a spaceship docking and breathed an audible sigh of contentment as she felt the young woman’s arms embrace her, and then hold her tightly in just the hold she preferred. It was three days to her birthday and the present giving had obviously already started.

After a while Andy remembered. “Did you get through to your friend? What did she say?”

Miranda was half asleep and completely absorbed in exploring a particular area of Andrea’s anatomy, namely her left breast. Her eyes were shut, but she managed to say, “Oh, yes. They will be here at seven, to join us for dinner.”

“Good, . . . Oh Miri, please . . . you know what that does to me . . . Oh!”

“Sshh, why don’t you take a little nap? You’ll need all your energy for later. Just let me enjoy playing with you for a little while.”

Andrea sank into the wonderful depths of the mattress and took Miranda’s full weight on top of her. Cuddle-bunny, trophy wife, second assistant made good, it was all fine by her. She reached out a languid hand and managed to set the alarm for an hour ahead. One of them would have to wake in good time for dinner and to receive their guests, and she wanted Miranda not to have the responsibility. After all, she had worked hard enough already . . .


	4. "The best portrait painter in California"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miranda introduces Andrea to some old friends.

The insistent buzzing of her alarm jolted Andrea awake. For one crazy moment she thought she was back in post as Miranda’s underpaid and overworked assistant and she tried to sit up in a panic. But then she felt that lady’s body firmly pinning her down, and realised where they were and how life had moved on somewhat from six months before. 

“Miri, wake up darling. Time to get dressed for dinner! It’s past six!”

Miranda’s face was warm and slightly damp against her own cheek, and she felt her eyelashes tickling her face. Instead of replying, she moved her mouth to the right slightly and captured Andrea’s lower lip, kissing it and then her whole mouth with a possessive but oh so loving exploration. Andy happily surrendered. Then the beep on her alarm went off again! They’d had their ten bonus minutes of snooze time, and it was definitely time to shift themselves. 

On the dot of seven Andrea followed Miranda’s swaying hips out of the elevator and across the reception area of the hotel. Miranda had taken on the role of her wardrobe mistress, choosing for her a red silk and rayon cocktail dress, and she knew she looked good. 

Her lover, as always, outshone everyone else milling about the hotel bars and foyer. Her dress was a turquoise-green raw silk two piece, so her naked shoulders were covered with a little jacket of the same material. No-one would believe that only a day before they had both been shivering under layers of woolly sweaters in the cold and slushy greyness of a New York January. 

Then Andy saw two tall women stride through the swing doors and suddenly had a spasm of shyness about being introduced to Miranda’s very old, and definitely dyky friends. She still wondered why Miranda had not told her all about the couple before, and couldn’t believe that her suggestion of Laguna as a vacation destination had nothing to do with the fact that her friends lived here. 

As soon as she saw Miranda, Gloria gave a scream which turned heads and ran towards her, pulling her into an extravagant embrace. For Miranda, the Queen of Cool, this wasn’t a usual form of greeting, but she didn’t seem embarrassed at all, kissed Gloria fondly, and then exchanged a slightly less intense greeting with her partner, an older woman who used a cane. 

“Andrea, come and meet Gloria and Lee.” Miranda drew her forward, and the ladies unashamedly gave her the once over. “Well, Jeese Louise, so this is the girl who’s finally tamed our little dragon!” said Lee, a broad grin on her sun-tanned face. 

She had a shock of white hair over piercing blue eyes, and was wearing a coat of many colours over black silk trousers. She drew Andrea in for a hug, and then held her at arms’ length, scrutinizing her. “You’ve certainly got the looks, and a lovely smile, but have you got the stamina? You must have learned by now that Miranda is a non-stop piece of mischief.”

Andrea decided to be totally sincere, and stop any ambiguity about how she felt.

“I absolutely adore her. Look, we’re engaged. See.”

She held up Miranda’s left hand to show they were wearing matching engagement rings. “I don’t know why she lets me love her, but she does, and I can’t imagine us ever being parted.”

Gloria now joined in the inspection. “You’re young, but then so was I when Lee here scooped me up. There’s nearly twenty years between me and my old lady. Can you believe the old soul here is eighty four and I’m a young thing of sixty-seven?” 

Andy smiled. She liked Gloria, even though she was still somewhat intimidated by her. She had a shock of wiry black and white hair rather like a badger, and very strong features. But her eyes were intelligent and also kind. 

“That’s more than enough nonsense about how old we all are. Come on in and have a drink before dinner. There’s a table waiting for us over by the window.”

Miranda took charge of the party and Andy noticed how she must have discreetly set up their booking somehow, so the arrangements were perfect for themselves and their guests. The dinner was delicious, and started with the classic combination of a Caesar salad and Bellinis. 

“How do you know Miranda?” asked Andy who needed some background information about this longstanding friendship. Gloria seemed almost to treat Miranda like a younger sister, but was obviously aware of her somewhat notorious reputation around New York. 

“Oh, I’ve known her since her first months in New York. She rented a couple of rooms off me, when she first arrived.”

Miranda chipped in, “Gloria taught me to become an American. She made me drink my first Coke, disgusting though it was, and she taught me to speak New Yorkese. You know, the English spoken in England can get you in real trouble here, if you’re not quick on the uptake!”

Gloria continued, “Miranda was a beauty then as she is now. I have adored her from day one, and I’m still madly jealous of you, Andrea, even though I’ve been with Lee twenty years!”

Lee didn’t seem the slightest bit affronted by this. “Hey, I have fancied Miranda just as long, from the moment Gloria introduced us! All that nonsense of going off and marrying not one man, but two! Thank God you’ve finally seen the light, Miranda and come out to join the ladies.”

They talked on, exchanging news and asking about the twins, and Miranda told them all about the beach cottage she and Andrea now had up in Provincetown. Both Gloria and Lee exchanged grins and roared with laughter at that nugget of information. 

“So you remembered then?” said Gloria, enigmatically.

“Remembered what?” asked Andy.

“Sshh, nothing darling. They are just being silly. Now what I really want to talk about, is the birthday present I want you to give me.”

This was so obviously a blatant attempt to change the subject that Andy was of course immediately curious to know more, but Miranda swept her along.

“There is something I need to tell you. Lee here is one of the most sought after portrait painters in California, and I absolutely love her work. There is one present I would love more than anything, and that’s if you would sit for her, and let me have a painting of you. I’ll pay of course.”

Andrea gulped, but Miranda was obviously completely serious.

“Oh gee, well what will I do with the spectacle case I have already spent $5 dollars on? But if this is what you’d like, yes of course I’ll sit. But have you checked with Lee first? It’s surely far too short notice. 

“And there’s to be no nonsense about you paying for your own birthday present. I am paying, even though all the dosh in my bank account originally came from you I realise.”

“Miranda has warned me in advance, and no-one will be paying. The painting will come from me with love,” declared Lee. “Call it a wedding present. Anyway, Miranda exaggerates about my artistic skills. You may not even like the picture when I’ve finished it.”

Gloria said, “Tomorrow you must come up to our house, and Lee can show you round her studio. Then you can talk about the sort of portrait you want. She’s actually doing some very innovative work at the moment with light boxes and pixilated points of light. You could have a portrait where the colours constantly change and the shadows come and go, but you would have to connect it to an electricity supply.”

Miranda looked pensive. “I thought of something more in the classical tradition, but I don’t want to cramp your style, Lee. Obviously these few days will only be the start, but I thought you could take some initial shots and make a beginning.”

Andy thought of the painting in the Townhouse, the one the twins called “The Lady with the fat bottom” and started to giggle. “If it’s in the classic tradition, are we talking about a nude?” she asked facetiously.

“Oh yes,” replied Miranda totally straight-faced. “That’s exactly what I had in mind.”

Andrea choked on her lobster bisque. “Huh? Well the only place it will hang then, is in the back of your wardrobe my love.”

“No darling, I couldn’t do that to an original Lee Weston! Over the fireplace in our main sitting room would be the only fitting location. Of course.” 

They exchanged smouldering glances. 

“I still don’t always know when Miranda is teasing me, I’m afraid,” Andy murmured to the other two women.

Gloria patted her on the wrist. 

“Like I said earlier, she is a piece of mischief. But honey, look at the glint in her eye! I don’t think she’s joking at all right now, and my Lee is actually famous for her nudes!”

Andy could feel her face going a hot pink, and looked down at her soup. Miranda finally took pity on her, and back-peddled from the delightful vision she had already had in her mind of a portrait of a naked Andrea adorning her drawing room. 

“We’ll see, and I won’t commission anything which would make you feel uncomfortable, darling. Now, how about a bottle of the famous Californian Chardonnay?”

And they moved smoothly onto the next course. 

Much later, when Miranda’s friends had departed, and Andy was sitting with her on their balcony, she couldn’t help chuckle at the realisation that this little mini-break by the sea was already turning into something more complicated. But then things always did with Miranda. She was as multi-leaved as an encyclopaedia, and as full of tricks as a magician’s pointed hat.

They could hear the Pacific waves crashing against the rocks below them in the moonlight. Andy remembered a similar sound from their lovely visits to Provincetown. 

“What did Gloria mean when you mentioned Provincetown and she said you must have remembered something? Come on, spill the beans!”

“Honey, it’s far too late now. Don’t forget, it’s 2 am New York time. I’ll tell you tomorrow perhaps, but for now, let’s just go to bed. I don’t know about you, but I’m more than ready for sleep. Will you help me unzip my dress, darling?”

Andrea put down her heavy tumbler of ice and Scotch. 

“Yes Miranda,” she said, pulling her lover towards her and kissing the nape of her neck. 

Tomorrow was another day after all.


	5. In front of the lens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BIg breakfasts, beach walks and photo shoots, what more to make a happy holiday?

The pale early sunlight was emerging from the East, so when Andy went onto their balcony and greeted the dawn the following morning, the beach was still half in shadow. The tide had retreated, so the murmur of the rippling surf was gentle, and the sea sounded friendly and welcoming. A few people were already up, walking their dogs along the sands, and family groups of grey pelicans were dipping and skimming the water like untidy air-borne parcels, flapping their huge wings and catching the sun on their backs. 

Andrea had risen at first light, because she wanted to think. Miranda was still safely fast asleep after another delicious night of cuddles and intermittent love-making, and if she was careful not to make too much noise, wouldn’t stir for another hour or two. Andy had dressed simply in Tee shirt, long shorts and sandals, and slipped out of the bedroom, her I-phone in her pocket. 

She craved a coffee, and went downstairs to the dining room to find everything laid out for an expansive buffet breakfast. A few early risers were already there, choosing food and eating it. Sitting in the picture window of the dining room, she enjoyed a freshly brewed cup of coffee, and also two feathery light croissants, butter and cherry jam. Out of the orbit of Miranda’s ferocious healthy eating regime, they were just what Andy craved, and for once she relished the chance to relax and have a solitary meal. 

The serious thinking she wanted to do took about thirty minutes to morph into an action plan, and then she picked up her phone. It would be ten a.m. on the East Coast, and she had one or two calls to make for it to work. 

Miranda was almost in a panic when she woke an hour later and couldn’t find Andy anywhere in their suite. The inner child hiding inside her threatened to burst into tears, but then she took herself in hand and calmed down. She rang Andy’s phone twice; the first time the phone was busy, which was weird, but then the second time, Andy answered very cheerfully and said, “I’m in the dining room darling. Come down as soon as you like, or would you like me to return?”

Miranda said she’d join her downstairs. She didn’t want Andy to feel she had to dance attendance on her all the time. She wasn’t some cranky old companion who needed constantly to be cossetted. 

“I’ll join you in ten minutes. Then let’s take a walk.”

Andrea had already been round the hotel garden, where the sun was now higher in the sky and the scents of spring were everywhere. They sat down together at an outside table, watching the tiny humming-birds hovering round the feeders full of honey, and Andy happily joined Miranda in a second breakfast. She was more than a little surprised though when her loved one ordered a large helping of French toast with strawberries, maple syrup and Chantilly cream. She hadn’t needed to be ashamed of consuming her croissants after all!  
“I know, not my usual. But we are on vacation. Let’s go for it. I don’t suppose you’ve ever realised I have a secret passion for French toast.”

Andy said nothing. There was no need. Miranda’s merry eyes told her how happy she was, and she simply sat back and enjoyed the view. 

They walked off their breakfast with a leisurely long stroll along the water’s edge. Miranda was fully conscious of how beautiful was this stretch of the coastline, and what an oasis from all the new conurbations to the north and south. No wonder the early settlers and film makers had chosen Southern California as their Shangri-La, and it still lured celebrities from all over the States to settle here.

Miranda secretly retained a child’s delight in the sea-side, and it was wonderful to see how her young Mid-Western fiancée appreciated it so much as well. Provincetown was perfect as a summer resort, but she decided then and there that this winter break would be the first of many trips they’d make to the West Coast. Why had the last two decades given her such tunnel vision about the need to keep working every minute of every day in New York? Life was far too short.

After an hour the tide had turned, and the accessible part of the beach was becoming much narrower. They walked back up the hill towards the hotel, checking the time, for Gloria and Lee had invited them mid-morning to visit and talk about the portrait. Andrea tried to pin Miranda down about what she really wanted, surely not a nude on full display? You just didn’t know with Miranda. As Gloria had warned, she was revealing more and more every day just how outrageous she could be.

“Wait and see what Lee suggests,” was all Andy could get out of Miranda. And before long they were in the car and heading a mile or two out of Laguna town centre up to where Gloria and Lee lived. 

Theirs was a wonderful house in a wonderful location, all glass and wide decks and cathedral ceilings which swooped up above a terraced garden, modelled into a paradise of winding paths and modern pieces of sculpture. There did indeed seem to be a large number of naked stone ladies around the place, peeping out from the shrubs in the garden and decorating most of the rooms. It was adorably, outrageously lesbian, and Andrea loved it. 

Gloria greeted them both very warmly, and unceremoniously picked up a pile of magazines off the large couch in the open-plan family room to make some space for them to sit down. Every flat surface seemed to be otherwise covered in papers, books or theatre and music programmes, and the only chair to be free of the clutter was fully occupied by a large, sleeping St Bernard, who didn’t even wake up to greet them. 

“So was it you who got Miranda into St. Bernards, or vice versa?” Andy asked Gloria, as the coincidence seemed too great.

“Oh, I was brought up with them in Maine, and first introduced Miranda to the joys of being perpetually slobbered over, when she roomed with me in Brooklyn. This is Freda. She is a full sister to Patricia, who I understand you’ve recently lost. Freda is old for a St Bernard, and has gone very deaf. She may not last much longer herself, sadly. We all went and bought them together eleven years ago, just before Miranda realised she was pregnant. She’d mistaken the hormone changes for a desire for a large dog!”

“That must have made things complicated,” murmured Andrea

“It certainly did,” laughed Miranda. “I was an emotional mess. But walking Patricia every morning at least kept the morning sickness at bay, and she slept on my bed every night after Geoff decided to move out.”

Gloria obviously knew all about this, and looked at Miranda very fondly. “Come on through while the coffee brews. Lee is in her studio, and I know she has some ideas already for your portrait.”

They walked through the house with its solid cedar floors, and Andy gazed in fascination at the numerous, very beautiful paintings hung on every wall. Lee was good, very good, and she decided to go with the flow and let the artist decide how she wanted to paint her. The studio was up a few steps at the back, on its own foundations, with even more spectacular views across the Pacific. She guessed the two women must have designed and built the house themselves, to their own specification. 

Lee surprised them all by wearing goggles, and sporting a welding gun. She looked for all the world like Doc, the eccentric inventor in Back to the Future. When they entered her space though, she stopped, and pulled off her head gear. 

“Hello, my lovelies. I’m just trying something new here.”

The studio was part traditional artist’s salon, part electrical workshop, with several half-finished experimental pieces. Lee was obviously into multi-media expressionism, and showed them round her latest collection of moving pictures, achieved through the very clever use of light and kinetic changes. 

Andy didn’t understand the technique, but she loved the results. The sitter’s face in one portrait came in and out of focus, and her expression changed in a subtle but never static way. It echoed film making and really was a moving picture. 

“I thought I’d start by taking a few photos of you, and then decide with you and Miranda which way to go. Head and shoulders, or full length, monochrome, realism or multi-coloured. It can be up to you, my dear. You have wonderful bones, and a very expressive face for one so young.”

Andrea blushed slightly. She knew a compliment from this woman would be worth having. 

“I think I show my feelings too often. I wish I could put a look of cool contempt on my face like Miranda.”

“No you don’t,” retorted Gloria. “Miranda’s marble like exterior has been forged by having her heart broken too many times. You don’t want that. I have known Miranda since she was in her twenties, and I’ve never seen her as happy as she is right now. Trust me darling, keep your face as open and mobile as you do now, and let her see how much you love her. It’s a wonderful sight, which even old fogies like Lee and I can appreciate.”

“She’s right,” murmured Miranda, pulling Andy into an embrace and kissing her cheek. “It is a wonderful sight. You are my sunshine.”

“Aw shucks,” groaned Andy, wriggling away. “Please!”

Lee took her in hand and sat her down in a chair away from the sunlight, against a neutral, slightly grey background. 

“Gloria, you and Miranda go off and amuse yourself for a while. Andrea and I will be busy here for the next hour.”

The women retreated and disappeared back to the house below. Lee set up her camera, and Andrea obediently changed her pose, and the position of her body as she directed. There seemed to be dozens of digital images taken of her top half, and then Lee asked her to undress and lie on a chaise longue put against the wall.

Andrea by now had lost most of her sense of embarrassment about her body, and stripped off down to her underwear. Lee acted like a professional photographer, encouraging her to flirt and play about in front of the camera. At one stage she asked Andrea to stand so she leaned back against the door and her breasts rose up enticingly, catching the light from the studio lamps. 

“Getting warmer, good! You’re a natural model, do you realise? You’ve given me some excellent images to work with.” 

Lee must have taken more than two hundred shots by the time she finished. She nodded towards Andrea’s clothes and the girl took the hint and dressed quickly. By then it was approaching Noon, and they went back to re-join the other two.

Gloria and Miranda were sitting in the sunshine on the front deck, and both grinned at the others as they emerged. Lee, whose hip was obviously playing her up, sat down heavily on a swinging chair. 

“My grandma has the same problem,” said Andy. “She’s expecting a hip-replacement operation soon. I would love you to meet her. She’d adore you both.”

“When’s your wedding?” demanded Lee. “I need to get this hip fixed as well, so I can enjoy that event to the full. Are you going to have it up in Provincetown?”

“That’s the plan,” said Miranda. “What about you two? You’ve been together long enough now. Why not make it legal and protect Gloria’s position as your partner in the law?”

“Cheeky woman! Are you implying I might shuffle off before her then?” Lee snorted, but continued, “You are right, of course. As the law stands, we’ll be crippled with inheritance tax if I go first. We need to update both our wills and take advantage of any new legislation which protects civil and gay partnerships.”

Miranda nodded, but also made a mental note to act on the same advice herself. If anything happened to her, she wanted Andy financially secure for life. It was a top priority. They talked on about the photo shoot, and Lee promised to show Miranda the fruits of her labours. Then Gloria changed the subject, while she fetched a large pitcher of pink lemonade and four tumblers. 

“We mustn’t forget. Would you like to come along with us this evening to a concert up at Newport Convention Centre? We have season tickets to the Music Society there, and there’s a worthwhile benefit concert on tonight, in aid of a good cause. We can all take one car.”

“What do you think, love?” Miranda asked Andy, and received a happy smile of agreement.  
“Great, we’ll pick you up at the hotel at 6.30 pm. Now then, I have some little snacks prepared for lunch. Could you manage some, do you suppose?”

Miranda looked more than happy to enjoy yet more foodie treats, so Andrea went to help Gloria plate them up and bring them outside.


	6. Champagne always went to her head.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrea is forced to tell Miranda a lie, and Miranda collapses before a concert reception. Probably it was just champagne on an empty stomach. . . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: For those of you dear readers, who may not have read any of my stories before, this is the tenth about Miranda in one chronological sequence, and in the same AU. References in this chapter are sourced in “Who do you think you are?” and “The Making of Miranda.” But it can still be enjoyed as a standalone story. Feedback, reviews and kudos are always warmly appreciated, as are suggestions for plot developments!

“Why not?”

“Because it’s January, I had my hair done on Tuesday and that water, though pretty, looks decidedly chilly!”

“Oh, come on, you can see people are swimming, several of them.”

“And most of them are wearing wetsuits! No darling, go in for a dip if you want to, but I am sitting right here on dry land. I’ll rub you down and warm you up afterwards if you like though.”

Miranda sat firmly on the little wall which ran along the top of Laguna Beach. That was her best and final offer, and Andrea knew brute force or argument wouldn’t entice her in for a swim. She herself had slipped into her bathing suit as soon as they’d returned from Lee and Gloria’s and now wore it under her shorts and Tee shirt, and she was determined to have at least a first quick plunge into the gleaming waters of the Pacific ocean. 

“It’s warmer than it was in Provincetown, and you swam then,” was her final attempt at cajoling Miranda to join her. 

“Maybe I did, but that was in September when the oceans had warmed up all summer. This is January. If I do swim, it will be in our hotel pool, which at least has some heating. And have you forgotten, I’m still recovering from the worst cold. Do you want me to catch pneumonia?”

“No, of course not, sweetie. I’m sorry. Here then, will you take care of my phone and watch while I go in. I won’t be too long.”

Andrea handed over her valuables, the I Phone Nigel and Emily had given her after hers was stolen, and the elegant white gold wrist watch, which was a present from Miranda for her last birthday. She kissed her lover fondly, and then ran off down the beach. Despite her earlier bravado about taking an afternoon swim, braving the Pacific waves in January did take some courage. She went straight forwards and then plunged under the first real breakers. After the first shock, that was always the best way.

Miranda admired but didn’t envy her. She sat on the wall and lifted her face to the sun, now past the mid-point of the day and throwing the whole beach into sunshine. It was Friday afternoon, and the town was building up to a busy weekend. 

She wondered what they should do the next day or two, stay locally, or take a trip or two further south? She’d like to show Andrea the sea lions in Fisherman’s cove at La Jolla, another old favorite location for fashion shoots, and happy memories of sharing meals there with Gloria and Lee. But maybe that would be too long a drive. For a full five minutes, Miranda sank into a happy daydream, thinking about the old days at Runway, before Irv Ravitz turned into a penny-pinching miser with her budgets.

Just then, she heard Andrea’s phone ping to show a text had come through. Curiosity, idle or otherwise drew her eye down to read it. The message was from Emily, poor Emily, captured still in the castle of Runway and beavering away at producing the April issue of Runway along with Nigel and the others. Miranda read the words, but didn’t really understand them, which was strange.

It said, “Everything organised and everyone on board. ETA 1pm.”

She read it again. Still no clue. She must be losing her wits somehow. Oh well, Andy would tell her no doubt, if it was anything important. She looked up, and scanned the water to make sure she could see her girl safely swimming, rather than drowning, but she knew Andy was a strong swimmer. 

There was no need to panic anyway, for Andrea had already left the water and was coming up the beach towards her. 

“Brrr! You were quite right. That water is brisk! No way should you have gone swimming in it!” She grabbed the hotel’s swimming towel and wrapped it round herself before sitting down next to Miranda.

“A text has come through for you from Emily. It’s Greek to me though.” 

Andrea looked sideways and picked up her phone.

“Oh, that’s nothing. It must just be something about Runway. I think Emily probably included me on a circulation list by mistake.”

Andrea then turned to Miranda and smiled. “Didn’t you offer to warm me up with a good rub down, hmm?”

Miranda took the towel and lovingly dried Andrea’s face and neck, and then gave a vigorous rub to her hair. With her head under the towel, and her face close to Miranda’s chest, Andy could hide the blush which had coloured her cheek. Successfully lying to Miranda was virtually impossible, but she might just have pulled it off. Trust the text message to have come through just at the wrong moment! She was lucky Emily hadn’t written more. But the news her terse note conveyed made her feel very happy.

They eventually returned to the hotel, and prepared to go out for the evening. Miranda had taken her spa assistant duties very seriously, and had not only dried off the salt water from Andrea’s body, but once they were back in their suite had poured her a warm bath, extravagantly filled it with bubbles and then insisted she strip and get into it.

Andrea knew what to expect, as bath-tub sex was one of Miranda’s favourite leisure activities. All the fuss about not wanting to get her hair wet seemed to have been forgotten as Miranda then climbed in on top of her. God, the woman was insatiable! It was just as well that she raised Andrea’s libido to boiling point just by looking at her in “that” way. Talk about Miranda being an ice-queen. One raised eyebrow from her was enough to melt Andrea’s insides to liquid gold.

Later, when they had mopped up some of the water they had splashed all over the bathroom floor, and retreated to the bedroom, Andy lay on Miranda’s bosom and asked, “Do you think Lee and Gloria enjoyed the same sort of passion we do when they were younger?”

“No past tense necessary, honey. I know they have a really active sex life now. Why should age make a difference?” 

“Oh, I never . . . just my prejudiced thinking I suppose. Does that mean I can expect hot sex from you when I’m sixty five?”

“Damn well hope so. If I make ninety and can actually see where you are in the room, then you can expect me to chase you round it!”

“Hmm, that’s a lovely thought.” 

There followed a few more nice quiet moments of love, and then Andy’s thoughts turned to the forthcoming evening.

“This benefit concert, what’s it in aid of?”

“The ALS Association according to Gloria. What they call motor neurone disease in England. But anyway, there’s a reception and then a recital by musicians with personal experience of it. She said we should wear our glad rags.”

“And how are Gloria and Lee involved?”

“Oh they are on the committee of the music society which organised it. I think they may be hosting the players for the weekend, but I don’t know any more details.”

“OK. Well, maybe we should get up. Would you like any dinner before we leave?”

“No, a bottle of San Pellegrino will be fine. I seem to have been eating constantly all day.”

Not being one of the crowned heads of Europe, Miranda was quite happy to wear the same dress she had chosen for dinner the night before, and Andrea did the same. The older couple picked them up at the hotel entrance, and Gloria drove the thirty minutes or so back up the freeway towards Los Angeles, to the South Coast Plaza complex where there were several large concert venues and convention centres. 

They parked up and then all walked through to the reception area where Gloria and Lee were immediately recognised by lots of people who wanted to be introduced to their very attractive unknown friends. Andrea kept close to Miranda, whom she knew to be a strange mixture of introvert and extrovert, happy in crowds one minute, and then still wanting to retreat the next. She realised this was no small town event, and some of the glitziest A list older celebs were present, including one very famous actress and her husband, and some of Hollywood’s more discerning patrons of classical music. 

“I still don’t even know who’s playing,” whispered Miranda in her ear. “Can you find us a programme, darling, so I don’t look an idiot if anyone talks to me about them?”

Andrea slipped her hand from Miranda’s arm and went over to the programme seller. She collected a couple, and then glancing down, felt astonished, as she recognised the face photographed on the front cover. 

“Miranda, look, it’s Charles Anderson, the cellist we heard back at Carnegie hall in November!”

“Let me see!” Miranda took the programme and opened it to read the blurb. She suddenly had the strangest sensation in her stomach, and for a moment wondered if she was actually going to pass out. 

She really should have taken a light dinner after all, because her head swam, and the champagne she’d been given and absent-mindedly drunk, had obviously gone to her head. That must be it, for why else would seeing Charles Anderson’s picture make her feel so faint. 

“Darling, are you O.K.?” Andrea could see her sway, and caught her before she could fall, helping her backwards onto one of the several chairs about the hall. Gloria turned in alarm as well, and they both looked with concern at Miranda, who had gone white as a sheet. 

She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths.

“Nothing . . . just something came over me . . . I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

Andrea waved the programme in front of her face and tried to explain to Gloria as best she could. “It was seeing your soloist’s photograph. We met him a few months ago, in New York. He’s a wonderful player, and was so kind to us, asked to meet Caroline especially, who’s just started on the cello.”

Miranda’s colour was beginning to return and she stopped feeling faint. “Really, it can’t have been that. I’ll just sit here for a few minutes and then I’ll be fine.”

Gloria put a hand on her shoulder, and felt Miranda’s forehead with the other.

“Well, it’s wonderful you already know him. We first met Charles several years ago when he played at the Hollywood Bowl in L.A. It was a real coup to book him for this, but apparently he lost a brother to ALS, so it’s a cause very dear to his heart. He and his pianist chum are both staying with us for two nights, for a weekend off, after tonight. He’ll be delighted to get to know you even better, I’m sure.”

“Go and mingle, Gloria. I know there must be many people here who need you. Andy will take good care of me.” Miranda replied, and now looked her normal, brisk self, so Gloria merely nodded and handed Andrea the two tickets she’d bought for them.

“If you’re sure, then I’ll see you in our seats. We all go into the concert in thirty minutes.” And she strode off to find Lee through the crowds of dinner jacketed and glittering patrons.

Andrea sat down next to Miranda and took her hand. 

“I wonder what brought this on. Any idea, darling?”

Miranda squeezed her hand. 

“Honestly, no. I did feel very strange the first two times I met him, as well, which was weird, but I think it’s really having alcohol on an empty stomach, that made me feel faint this time. It’s just a coincidence.”

“Well, let me fetch you a canape or two. I can see some rather tempting little blinis over there with smoked salmon and cream cheese toppings. Shall I grab you some?”

“I’ll come with you,” and Miranda stood up, smoothed down her dress and they sallied forth.

Half way across the hall towards the canapes’ table, a voice called out, “Miranda Priestly, what brings you all the way out here?” 

They both turned and one of Runway’s contributing writers held out his arms for an air-kiss. 

“Darling, you look fabulous! Here, come and meet Alistair, my new boyfriend. He’s a music critic with the LA Times.” Both women were swept forward into a little crowd of gossiping glitterati, and Andrea was happy to see Miranda bore up very well. 

Before the concert began she managed to feed her a small plateful of various canapes, and consume a few herself. When they finally took their seats, there was no danger Miranda was going to keel over again, and they settled down next to Lee and Gloria to enjoy the recital. 

Charles Anderson, and his amiable pianist friend looked much the same as they had back in November, and played just as brilliantly, even though the repertoire was quite different. As the music wafted over them, Andrea took a few moments to review her very ambitious plans for Miranda’s birthday weekend.

She had concocted her surprise almost as soon as she had seen the lovely setting of the hotel, and the funky little town in which it was located. If all went well, Miranda would have an amazing birthday surprise, one which she was sure she’d enjoy, just so long as the initial shock didn’t kill her first. Gloria and Lee knew, because she’d told Lee while they were involved in the photo-shoot, and they’d promised her not to let any cats out of the bag.

Now, if Charles and his friend were going to be staying with Gloria and Lee until the end of Sunday, Andrea just had to increase the numbers in the reservation at the hotel. She mentally tied a knot in her hanky to do that, and then settled back in her chair to enjoy the fine music.


	7. Wide awake at 1a.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miranda and Andy become somewhat over-excited, but with good reason.

As the concert finished, the Chair of the West Coast ALS Association came onto the stage to thank and congratulate the players, and the cellist stood up and walked forwards. He took the mike and slightly shyly thanked the Chair for her kind words. 

“This work is so important,” he then said to the audience. “I lost my twin brother to ALS five years ago, and it was like losing your right hand. He was so relatively young, so gifted, and it was very painful to see how fast the disease progressed. I know many of you here tonight will have had personal experience of this as well, and I thank you all for your support. Please keep spreading the word about the need for more research and better outcomes. Thank you, and good night.”

Andrea and Miranda both joined in the applause which followed, and Miranda tried to understand why this guy from Australia had such a profound effect on her, almost at a sub-conscious level. She’d never seen him, never even heard of him before the previous November. But she’d learned something else tonight. He said he had been a twin. 

Then a very small, very strong little thought trail began to curl itself around her insides. It wasn’t his face which was familiar. It was something else, at one remove. She knew, all of a sudden, she was convinced she knew! 

Charles Anderson reminded her of someone she had known, someone she had fixed on with the closest relationship of love for the first four years of her life. The person he reminded Miranda of so strongly, almost at a visceral level, was her mother. 

“My God!” 

The words came out of her mouth before she could stop them. 

Both Andy on one side of her, and Gloria on the other, turned in to look at her with equal curiosity.

“What is it, honey?” asked Andrea. 

“The cellist, our new friend Charles Anderson. It’s crazy, I know. But I think he’s my younger brother, one of the twins who were adopted at birth back in 1959!

“Really?” said Gloria. “Darling, I don’t doubt your psychic powers, but how? Are you sure it’s not your wonderful imagination at work here?”

“Well, it will be simple to find out,” said Andrea. “We can ask him all about his family background. Didn’t you say they were staying with you and Lee for the weekend?”

“Yes, they are.”

Miranda chipped in, suddenly cautious. “Well, in that case, let’s not trouble him tonight, when he’s exhausted after the concert. We’ll come up tomorrow morning and talk to him then. I was going to run Andrea down as far as La Jolla for the day, but we can maybe do that on Sunday, on my actual birthday.”

Andrea looked steadily at Gloria as she spoke. “I think that’s a good idea, to join them for coffee tomorrow. And I am so enjoying Laguna, I don’t want to travel far tomorrow. Our hotel is so gorgeous, after all.”

Miranda seemed distracted, but nodded her head. “Whatever you think best, darling. I spoke to the manager earlier though, and he said they’re expecting a large influx of guests for the weekend, for some party or other. We might want to avoid the crowds”

Andrea and Gloria both stood up and coughed simultaneously. Then Gloria said, “Well, let’s get back home anyway. We can leave now. Lee has arranged to stay behind and drive down later with Charles and his pianist in their hire-car, so she can navigate them down the coast to our place. But when we get back to Laguna, Miranda darling, why don’t you look up Charles on social media, as a start? There are bound to be several articles about him. That would save any embarrassment if it turns out he can’t possibly be related to you, if he’s the wrong age for example.”

“That’s a brilliant idea!” added Andy. “Let’s go!”

Gloria dropped them both at their hotel, before taking the cliff road back up to her house on the high bluff. Miranda felt as though she was about to discover something immensely significant about herself. It couldn’t be, just couldn’t be that simple to find out . . . or could it?

Andrea urged her to go on up to their room on the second floor.

“Take the elevator. You go ahead. I won’t be long. I’d just like to browse through the brochures in the lobby for a few minutes,” she said, hoping her nose didn’t suddenly shoot out like Pinocchio’s.

Miranda, though needed no more prompting. As the lift door closed behind her, Andrea went across to talk to the duty manager. She had important arrangements to finalise about the forthcoming weekend. 

Playing a gentle trick on Miranda was becoming her modus operandus, especially where celebrations were concerned. Everything in her plan was confirmed, and confidentiality assured. They would have the sole use of the smaller function room for a lunch party between twelve and three on Sunday, and all the other necessary rooms were booked and paid for as well. It only remained to sort some minor matters like floral arrangements and place settings, and Andrea sat down there and then and wrote a list of names out by hand. 

Thirty minutes later, close to midnight, she went upstairs and found Miranda, still fully dressed, sitting at their small dining table and looking very excited in front of her tablet. She didn’t even query why browsing through a few tourist brochures had kept Andy so long. 

“Well? Is he your long lost little brother?”

“Possiblemente! Look, I’ve found this article on Wikipedia. It doesn’t say much about his early life, but the year of his birth is right, and it says his family emigrated from England to Australia when he was very young. It lists his brother as Henry Beaumont, architect, who died in 1999. Charles changed his name to Anderson before then though, back in the early 1980s when he started his professional career as a concert musician. I wonder why.”

Andrea’s antennae now swivelled round as energetically as Miranda’s had earlier.

“But Miri, forget your side of things. Don’t you remember? Hannah’s fiancé, Harry, his second name is Beaumont, he’s lost his father, and he said his uncle is a professional cellist! “

They stared at each other, their mouths open. 

“Impossible!” 

“It can’t be!”

“What do you bet? I’m going to text Hannah right now and ask her. It will probably be mid-day or something tomorrow in Japan right now!”

“I don’t know,” laughed Miranda, making the old London bus joke simply to calm her nerves, “You go through life without any relations and then they all arrive at once!”

Andrea decided to call Hannah rather than send a text. This was all too exciting. But she had almost given up when the phone was finally answered, by some-one sounding very sleepy.”

“Hmm? Andy, what’s up? It’s two in the morning.”

“Hey, I’m sorry. I thought you’d be on Tokyo time.”

“No, we haven’t even left Cincinnati yet. We’ve stayed on until Mom has got over her broken leg and is properly back on her feet. We’re supposed to be leaving on Monday.”

“Wow!” The cogs began to turn yet again in Andrea’s Machiavellian little head. She held the phone close to her ear and then quietly sidled into the bathroom, closing the door so she could talk to her sister out of Miranda’s earshot. She soon put her in the picture, and received wonderful news.

“He is? The same family? You’re sure? So why did Charles change his name to Anderson?”

There was then a gap while Hannah woke Harry and asked him the same question.

“Ah I see! Wow, well look. Let’s talk first thing in the morning. Yes, you’ll have time! Tell me what you can come up with! Sweet dreams. Bye!”

When she emerged, Miranda was standing on the balcony looking out to sea. Her heart was so full with the possibilities of it all, she could hardly think straight. But supposing it was just simply a coincidence as it most logically would be? She was building herself up not to get too upset. 

“Miranda! One thing is definitely true. Harry’s father was Charles’ twin brother. He died in 1999.” Andy joined her and hugged her close.

“But why do they have different names?”

“Nothing sinister. It seems there is a famous Australian light music entertainer already out there, called Charlie Beaumont, so Charles decided not to risk them being mixed up. He chose the name Anderson after Hans Christian Anderson, the Danish writer, because he always loved the story of the Little Mermaid! That’s a tiny bit gay, don’t you think?”

“So . . . ?”

“Harry and Charles are nephew and Uncle . . . “ 

“And if Charles and Henry really are my brothers . . . “

“Then my sister is going to marry your nephew!”

“This is beyond ridiculous!”

“Isn’t it? But I kind of think it may be true! Holy Smoly. We’re related already!”

“I am absolutely not going to get worked up, until we’ve talked to Charles tomorrow.”

“No, of course not!”

“Let’s simply turn in for the night like sensible people.”

“Absolutely! You’re quite right!”

They undressed and lay in bed together in silence.

An hour later, Andrea whispered.

“Are you awake?”

“Of course.”

“So am I. I’m sure I won’t sleep a wink.”

“No, neither shall I.”

“Would you like a little . . . . you know what . . . to kill the time then?”

“I wouldn’t object.”

Andy started to giggle and rolled over on top of Miranda. The inevitable then occurred and after ten minutes of delightful time-killing, they both fell fast asleep. It was a very good thing they did, because Saturday was to prove very busy indeed, for them both.


	8. You couldn't make it up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saturday morning in the Pacific South West. Not a lot happens, perhaps, but on the other hand . . . Miranda's life, already turning upside down, does another double somersault. Hang onto your hats.

Saturday morning found Miranda in a complete state of jitters. She’d ordered breakfast to be sent up to their suite, not able to face fellow guests or casual observers in the dining room, as she prepared for what might be the most important conversation of her adult life. In a real way, this dialogue with Charles, and what it might or might not confirm, would probe deeper inside her than any other she had ever had. 

She considered she had managed her life very well since she had left local authority care. She had planned a trajectory along which she had moved like an arrow. Yes, events had sometimes overtaken her decisions, but she realised that most of her failed relationships had been down to one thing, the loss of her anchor, her mother’s love, and the tragedy of also losing those tiny premature baby brothers. 

This might be like finding the last clue to unlock her heart’s tomb. Andrea’s adoration and passion for her, and of course, her children’s love, had been warming it up from the outside, but the inner padlock needed to release her innermost soul was still locked tight. 

This was all deep, deep stuff. She supposed most people in her situation would have been in permanent therapy by now. But Miranda knew what ailed her. She didn’t need to lie on a couch and bore someone else with tedious details to find it out.

“Coffee, darling?”

There was no need for an answer to that, either. Andrea poured the lovely smelling stuff into two bone china mugs and passed one over to her. Then she voiced the very thing Miranda was trying to resolve in her mind.

“What will you do if it’s not him? How will you cope with the disappointment?”

“I’ve been playing that over in my mind, and I think I’ll manage. It’s such a long shot after all. No, if there’s no chance he and Harry are part of my family, then we’re simply keep looking. I’ll hire a good private investigator and we’ll take it from there. Don’t worry, Andy sweets, I’ll be O.K.”

“Hey, it’s not Cass or Caro you’re talking to, you know. Don’t try to be strong just for my sake. You can cry your eyes out if you like.”

Andrea lifted the silver cover off a very tempting plate of French toast.

“Here you go! Let’s share this. An army marches on its stomach, as they say.”

Miranda allowed her to split the dish in two and give her half. She took a forkful and remembered again how she loved it. As a child in England it had been called by the less romantic name of “eggy bread”, and her first foster parents had often fed it to her, laced with golden syrup. Simple pleasures. 

“Hey,” she said, tucking in and immediately feeling less emotionally fragile. “I am slightly worried about the twins. I’ve tried calling twice now this morning, but no one has picked up at Geoff’s, and the children aren’t answering their cells either.”

“Oh, I expect Cindy and Geoff have taken them somewhere. Perhaps they’ve gone skiing. We’d have heard if there was anything amiss.”

Andrea glanced at the clock. Yes, the relevant flights should all be airborne and well on their way by now. New York to Los Angeles would involve at six hours in the air for everyone, but they had the three hours’ time-change to ease the problem, and her motley crowd of guests could all just chill out and relax once they arrived. Miranda’s birthday, and the real party, would be tomorrow.

She was very excited, and fully prepared for Miranda to be initially furious at all the fuss, but it would be so worth it. She wanted Miranda’s “big” birthday to be the happiest day of her life, and so it could be. 

She would be surrounded by so many people who loved her, and for whom she at least had love in return, (or in some cases, at least a modicum of affection!) And if she found a brother into the bargain, well that would be the cherry on the cake. 

“Well, it’s now or never. Gloria and Lee will be expecting us. Let’s get on the way.” So they finished their breakfasts, picked up their sunglasses, and left the hotel. 

Lee and Gloria had given the morning’s arrangements some thought. As soon as they arrived, Lee grabbed Andrea’s arm and led her away to the studio. “I’ve prepared some concepts for your portrait you need to look at. Tell me what you think.”

When they were alone, Andrea asked, “Will Miranda be all right? Shouldn’t I have stayed with her?”

“No, this is something she needs to do for herself. Gloria has paved the way, and I have to say, the signs are quite hopeful. Over breakfast Charles actually talked a little about his childhood, and also about how wonderful it was to see Miranda again. I’m sure they’ll get on, whatever the outcome.”

“Do you think they could be brother and sister?”

“Do you know darling, I think they could be.”

“Well, all we can do is wait and find out. Do you know if Charles and George can stay for the lunch party tomorrow? Have you mentioned it by the way, because no-one must tell Miranda about it before tonight?”

“We’ve been the soul of discretion, don’t worry. They just know there is a function we’d like to take them to. They are not leaving here till Monday, anyway, so I expect they will be happy to come.”

Andrea beamed. Her little birthday conspiracy was playing out really well so far. She sat down at Lee’s enormous work table with her, and looked through the digital projector at the images taken of her. The woman was a genius, because she already could see that many of the photos were of professional quality already, without being transformed into paintings or other media. 

Lee asked her to join her in making a shortlist though, and she was soon absorbed in the task.

Meanwhile, back in the main house . . . .

At Gloria’s suggestion Miranda had taken Charles through to her study, while his accompanist George enjoyed browsing through the Saturday L.A. Times, lying back on the sofa, with his feet resting on Freda’s back. She was apparently asleep as usual but had at least vacated the best chair, and quite liked being a footstool. St Bernards like to feel wanted and useful.

The study was quiet, sunny and appallingly messy, but Miranda took the liberty of moving a few piles of magazines and folders and making a space for them to both sit on the two easy chairs by the window. 

“Charles, Gloria may have mentioned it, but I just wanted a quiet chat with you. I hope you don’t mind.”

He looked slimmer and more vulnerable somehow, out of his concert uniform of black tailcoat and trousers. 

“Of course not. Is it about Caroline? How is she coming along?”

Miranda was pleasantly surprised he had remembered the name of her daughter from November’s brief encounters, but tried to keep to topic. 

“No, it’s about coincidences. Andrea and I have just discovered that her sister Hannah is engaged to your nephew Harry Beaumont.”

“No!” Charles broke into a huge smile. “That’s wonderful news! Then you and I will be family. I can’t tell you how happy that makes me. For some strange reason I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind for the last two months. You have the most mesmerising smile, has anyone told you that?”

“Charles . . . “

“No, I fully realise you’re committed to Andrea. Don’t worry. And I have always known I was the gay twin of the two of us, Henry, Harry’s father, and me, that is. It hasn’t always been easy, but that’s a given. I can’t change who I am.”

“Of course not, and why should you? But strangely, since we met in New York, I too have been having some strange feelings about us, and I just wanted to pass a couple of ideas past you. This may seem a strange question, but were you and Henry by any chance adopted?”

Miranda kept her gaze steady, and watched Charles’ face show instinctive pain, which he tried and failed to hide.

“Why do you ask?”

“Because I need to know. If the answer is negative, then there’s no need to pry further, but if you were, or suspect you were . . .”

“Yes, we were adopted, as new-borns. It’s been a very emotional journey, finding that out, and it’s taken its toll on me and on my brother and my adoptive mother.

“My father who died before Henry, never wanted us to find out. He was initially ashamed not to have had sons of his own. But he was also extremely homophobic and when I came out in my early twenties he disowned me. Harry thinks I changed my name to avoid being mixed up with another musician, but that wasn’t really the case. It was what my father demanded, so I didn’t disgrace the family name! My success as a musician meant nothing to him in comparison to being thought to have fathered a poofta.”

“Do you have access, have you ever had sight of your original birth certificate?”

“A long time ago now, when I applied for a passport, my mother had to tell me Henry and I were both adopted, and showed me my birth certificate. It was an enormous shock to a boy at seventeen. My whole sense of identity was tossed up in the air to be thrown into a thousand pieces, as you can imagine. But while it didn’t mean so much to Henry, to me it was eventually a great relief to learn I was not my father’s son.”

“Did they emigrate to Australia with you, your adoptive parents?”

“Yes, on the assisted passage scheme in the early 60s. From England, you could get a place on a ship for £10. Dad was a plumber and Australia needed people like him.”

Miranda wondered how to proceed. This felt like a precarious path on stepping stones over a raging torrent of water, but she was half-way over now, and couldn’t turn back. 

“I’m not sure how to say this, any more gently, but based on what you say, I think there is a chance I might be your older sister.”

“What?” Charles looked as astonished as she expected he would. “How can that be?”

“What did it say on your original birth certificate? Do you remember your birth mother’s name?”

“Helen Fleming, nee McCarthy. Of course I remember it. It’s written on my heart.”

Miranda felt tears form behind her eyes, and blinked repeatedly to stop them falling. Her voice had suddenly failed. She heard herself almost croak.

“Yes. Then. She was my mother too. I remember you both being born.”

That terrible night, the hours of screaming, her mother and the tiny boys being taken away to hospital, it all flooded back into her brain, and Miranda began to cry, furious that she had no tissue or handkerchief to mop up her tears.

Charles jumped forward, and in a classic gay man way produced a clean white handkerchief from his trouser pocket and passed it to her. Then he promptly burst into tears alongside her. 

They sat next to each other crying together for what seemed like ten minutes. Then he pulled Miranda up to her feet and folded her into a hug which felt awkward to start with, but then seemed the most natural thing in the world. 

“Are we absolutely sure? I couldn’t bear it if it isn’t true,” he said after a little while.

“I think it must be. Everything fits. But a DNA test will confirm it. We should both get one done, as soon as possible.”

“I think we are brother and sister. I can feel it. I know it’s true, without DNA.”

“When is your birthday?”

Charles told her, and it was exactly as she remembered. 

“Where in England was the birth registered?”

“Lewisham, London.”

They were on the home straight. The stepping stones had not failed her.

He then asked, “Are there other siblings? What happened to our mother?”

Miranda looked out of the window at the Californian sunshine. “Come, let’s take a walk round Gloria’s gorgeous garden, and I’ll tell you about it, and especially what a wonderful, loving person our mother was.”

And they walked outside together. 

Gloria watched them go, and ran up to Lee’s studio to tell Andrea and her partner the good news.

“I’m sure it’s true!” she cried, interrupting their photo-viewing. “They are hugging each other and both crying buckets! It’s so wonderful and so tragically lovely!”

“Calm down kid!” admonished Lee. But she and Andy both went to the window and joined Gloria to look down on Miranda and Charles, deep in conversation below them. Then they saw them move to sit together on a stone bench under the bougainvillea tree. Freda, who always wanted to be at the centre of any emotional drama, had gone to join them. She sat with her very large chin on Miranda’s knee, and Charles had his arm round them both.

“Wow,” said Andrea. “You couldn’t make it up. It’s so perfect.”

“No you couldn’t,” agreed Gloria. "It is a perfect birthday present for her. Are we going down to interrupt them?"

"Not yet," said Andrea gently. "They have a lifetime apart to make up. There's plenty of time."

So they turned back reluctantly to the photo files, and Gloria told them which ones she would put on the shortlist.

And outside in the garden, Miranda and Charles carried on talking, hugging, and crying.


	9. A soppy, sentimental woman.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Love is in the air, everywhere you look around"

“Long enough, don’t you think?” Lee pushed her glasses back up into her mop of white hair and indicated to the other two women their friends still sitting on the stone bench in the garden below them. 

“Hmm. Yes, I need to get Miranda back to the hotel by 1pm. The whole party should be arriving by then.”

Andrea led Gloria and Lee out of the studio and they walked down to the lush little piece of paradise garden where Miranda and Charles were sitting. Miranda immediately jumped to her feet and embraced Andrea, drawing her towards Charles. There was no need for words, but she breathed, “Here, meet your brother-in-law, darling.” And there was much hugging and laughter, with both him and Miranda both being ridiculously emotional. Almost as if finding your long lost sibling was a once in a lifetime experience . . .

It was quickly settled that Charles would join them later at the hotel for dinner. He had his statutory three hours practice to fit in beforehand, a non-negotiable daily routine which happened hell or high water. Andy was amused to see that he shared Miranda’s perfectionist tendencies, and, thinking about it, little Caroline’s ‘commitment’ to her cello.

George Prescott, Charles’ long term accompanist and best mate had managed to finish the LA times, and came out to be briefed about what all the fuss was about. He was as astonished as anyone else, but when he saw Charles and Miranda standing next to each other, the visual proof was incontrovertible.

“My love,” Andy said eventually, quietly but firmly pulling her to one side, “We do need to return now. I have a little birthday surprise for you back at the hotel which will have been delivered by now.” 

Miranda was sufficiently distracted not to ask too many questions. She allowed herself to be bundled into the Mercedes passenger seat, and Andrea took the wheel. In the rear view mirror she could see Lee and Gloria standing together, waving like mad things as she drove away.

They had almost reached the hotel gates before Miranda thought to ask, “So what is this surprise, Missy? I hope you’re not expecting me to take a scuba diving lesson or something?”

“No, not quite, but you may need a few deep breaths when you see what awaits you.”

“I can’t cope with any more good news right now. My head and my heart are so full. Oh, how can I get hold of the twins to tell them? They will be over the moon!”

The universe answered that question faster than she could imagine, for just as Andy pulled their car to a halt in the guest parking lot, Miranda saw two little girls with flying red curls run down the steps towards her and fling themselves into her arms!

“Mommy!”

“What? How? What on earth are you two doing here?”

“You didn’t think we’d let you go off by yourself to have your birthday without us, did you?” said Cassidy.

“Andy sorted it out with Dad and Cindy. We just got here,” said Caroline.

“So, have they come all this way as well?”

“Yeah, with the Bump, of course. Dad thought it was a great idea. He’s going to stay on for a while and give Cindy a vacation in the sun. “

“This is a very cool place. Cass and I are so happy to see you both. “We’ve really missed you.”

“My darling girls, I’ve missed you too, and I have the most amazing news to tell you. Come on, let’s find your father.”

As they walked up to the main entrance, with the girls dragging Miranda along , one on each arm, she turned to Andy and mouthed, “Thank-you my love. It’s a wonderful surprise. I forgive you for nearly giving me a heart attack though.”

“Brace up, sweetie,” said Andy enigmatically. “The surprises haven’t quite finished yet.”

While Miranda and her twins went up to Geoff and Cindy’s room, Andrea approached the reception desks and checked up on the arrivals for the rest of her party. She was pleased to see the list of familiar names. Nigel, Emily, Serena, and then she saw from reading the register upside down that Mr Nigel Kipling had also brought a companion with him, Douglas! Well that was a new development she hadn’t anticipated. She called his cell-phone.

“Darling! Come on up! How is our birthday girl?”

“Nigel, you won’t believe it. The most amazing thing has happened. I’ll be with you in five minutes. What’s your room number?”

And she then headed off towards the stairs. Waiting for the elevator would simply take up too many minutes. 

Nigel, Douglas, Serena and Emily were all in Nigel’s room, enjoying cocktails and soaking in some sunshine on the balcony. They all had a New York pallor on them, and Andy realised how much better she felt already, after three days or so of constant Vitamin D.

“Six! This really was the best idea you’ve had since you clamped Miranda into those handcuffs! We’re on a works outing. Everything can go hang for a few days.”

Andrea was genuinely shocked. “Nigel! How did you find that out? No-body, but no-body knows about the Cuffed Up incident. I promised Miranda!”

“Ha, but Miranda herself can be a leaky vessel at times. When she is head over heels in love, and has no-one to confide in. Those early days, seemingly so long ago now.”

“Hmm! Oh well then. It is wonderful to see you all, anyway. And Douglas! What’s all this then!”

Nigel stepped in hastily. “Separate rooms, darling, separate rooms. Don’t get the wrong idea. We are just good friends!”

“Oh yes?” For one so normally trusting, Andy’s eyebrows lifted perceptibly and was pleased to see Douglas turning a decided shade of pink.

“Nigel suggested I came along, as you and I are such mates, and we have been seeing a bit of each other since Christmas.”

“I’m very pleased to hear it. Speaking as an experienced scandalous lover by now, you both have my complete blessing to see as much of each other as you like!” Andy laughed and helped herself to a drink from the large pitcher on the table.

“So tell us the news about Miranda then?” said Emily. “You said to Nigel an amazing thing has happened.”

“Yes,” added Serena who was lying on the sun-bed already with her eyes shut in a Brazilian state of sun-worshipping bliss. "Spill those beans!”

“Well, you won’t believe this but . . . . .”

And Andrea filled them in with the remarkable and wonderful transformation of Miranda’s family situation. 

“And the next amazing thing is,” she finished, as her friends all sat there with their mouths wide open, “that my sister and her fiancée, who happens to be Charles’ nephew, so he will be Miranda’s nephew as well, are due to arrive here this evening from Ohio. They were leaving for Tokyo today, but have re-routed themselves to include a stop-over in LA and hence with us, for the weekend! Isn’t that cool?”

“So we are going to meet all these Miranda people?” asked Emily.

“Wow,” said Serena. “That will be intense. I can barely stand-up in front of Miranda herself, let alone more of them.”

Andrea laughed. “Oh, they are adorable. Don’t worry. But don’t you remember, at the Christmas party? Hannah was there, with Harry! He’s the nephew.”

“The tall guy who played the flute, with the red hair?”

“That’s the one!”

“Hey Em, talking of the party, what happened to your Dad in the end? The last I saw of him he was going off with Kerry’s mother, clubbing.”

Emily, who looked much less uptight than she normally did, laughed out loud. 

“Yes, and he’s actually taken her back to Bournemouth with him. I’ve no idea how that will go down with the blue-rinsed brigade there.”

“Well she did like coloured hair. Wasn’t hers green, mostly?”

“Whatever. Anyway, we’ve not heard a peep of condemnation from him since. I would kiss Miranda’s feet in gratitude for what she said to him to stop him persecuting Seri and me. I only wish I knew what it was.”

Andrea, who genuinely didn’t have any inside information, just shrugged and smiled. Then she turned to more immediate concerns. 

“My darlings, could I ask a great favour and beg you to slip away from the hotel this evening and have dinner in town? There are plenty of great places, and in that way we can make Miranda’s birthday tomorrow a real wham of a surprise when we all gather for a festive lunch. I’ve booked us the smaller function room, and I don’t want to surprise her with too much today. She’s already astonished to see the twins arrive with their Dad.”

“Sure thing! We are going to go off and explore anyway. Nigel remembers some good places, from when he and Miranda came out here six years ago.” Douglas smiled. He looked so happy, and was already discarding his winter, city clothes. Andy went over and gave him a big sisterly hug, swigged down the last of her drink and prepared to leave them. 

“Our suite is two floors below you, just round the corner, so with luck, if you are all on this landing, we should be able to hide you from Miranda. Her brother is coming round for dinner, so I might tell her Hannah and Harry are going to be here. How long can you all stay, by the way?”

“I’ve booked us out until Wednesday,” announced Nigel. “We’ll go up into LA on Monday and do some scoping for a new West Coast edition. It’s about time we focused on this end of America again.”

“Fantastic! So, see you tomorrow!”

And Andrea went back to locate her Beloved and the Bobbsies. 

It turned out to be a very emotional, but beautiful evening as the extended Priestly family all gathered together in their suite. George had sent Charles down alone, pushing him off and telling him he was going to practise for their upcoming tour of South America, although what he’d make of Gloria’s piano, buried under a pile of paperwork, the Weston ladies weren’t sure. They soon heard him rattling away at top speed though, giving the old instrument a work-out it had probably never had in its life before. 

Caroline and Cassidy were bright little girls, but it took them several very puzzled minutes before they realised they had a new Uncle, and that the amazing cellist they’d heard play in New York, was the same man. Geoff and Cindy were delighted to hand the twins back into Miranda and Andrea’s care. Now well into her pregnancy’s second trimester, Cindy had found their incessant energy just about sustainable for a weekend, but didn’t cry too hard when they returned to Mommy. 

Geoff said to Miranda, as he arranged for the girls to go into the room next to hers and Andy’s. “Cindy’s exhausted. She’s just finished her para-legal diploma, so I thought we’d stay out here for a week and give her a real break. This is a fantastic hotel, girl. You chose well.”

“I know. But it has somehow been Andrea who realised that when I said I wanted to get right away from everyone for my birthday, I didn’t really mean it. I was just frightened of being fifty I guess.”

Geoff chuckled. “You can trust Andy. I think she’s organised a nice little happening for us all tomorrow. Anyway Cindy and I are dining out tonight, so we’ll see you again in the morning. Bye for now.” 

He turned to his daughters, “Now then molluscs, be as horrible for your Ma as you are for me, won’t you?” and he hugged them both tightly. Miranda felt quite tearful, yet again, when she saw how genuinely loving the twins were towards him, so different from the year before.

A spirit of love seemed to be floating over everyone. It was almost a miracle. Then she saw Andrea standing by the window, her profile lit up by the evening sunshine and surrounded by a corona of gold light. 

“She is my spirit of love,” she thought. “She has taken away all my prickles somehow. What has become of me? I am actually turning into one of those things I used to despise, a sentimental, soppy woman!”

Andrea as she often seemed to do, seemed to realise she was thinking of her, and came to give her a hug and a squeeze. 

“Are you feeling robust, honey? Because I have another surprise for you and Charles. Hannah and Harry have just texted to say they have landed at John Wayne. They’ll be here to join us within the hour!”

“You minx!” groaned Miranda. “My heart can’t take any more happy shocks. Just promise me this is your last surprise.”

Andy pulled her head into a kiss against her ear. She studiously avoided answering the question directly, but just whispered, “Oh, your heart is in very good shape. Wait until tomorrow. I promise you, it will be a birthday to remember, that’s all I’m saying!”

And with that Miranda had to be content.


	10. Starting over!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miranda has a birthday party to remember.

Miranda Priestly lay in bed on the morning of her fiftieth birthday and considered her options. It was still barely seven a.m., just about dawn in Southern California in the depth of what locals called the winter season, but to everywhere further north in America might seem like spring time.

She could go back to sleep, she could seriously molest the sleeping beauty beside her, or she could do what a mother should, get up and go next door to her daughters’ room, where she guessed they would already be wide awake and impatient to be doing something energetic. They would most likely still be on New York time after all. 

Miranda decided to do the unselfish thing, swung herself out of bed and felt for her travel slippers. Wrapping her robe round her, she then quietly tiptoed out of the room. Andy, after all, deserved her sleep. She had taken Miranda to the moon and back late the previous evening, and christened the beginning of her official birthday with a spectacular display of sexual athleticism. Miranda still shivered at the memory of the resulting orgasm. It was like the elixir of youth. She’d take more of that any time Andrea liked to provide it! 

But when she tapped on the girls’ door, and then opened it with her key card for their room, they were not there! Damn it, she might have known. The rascals had skipped off already, but two ten year olds in a strange hotel, where had they gone? Surely not to waken Geoff and poor Cindy? Despite her determination not to over-react, a motherly panic attack threatened.

She walked to the balcony and looked out, and then was relieved to hear voices she recognised coming distantly from the hotel swimming pool. The twins were splashing happily about, while the early morning pool attendant was still setting out loungers and swilling down the stonework. 

Something made them look up and they waved at her, oblivious of any anxiety they might have caused and she hadn’t the heart to scold them. 

“Come on down, Mom! It’s lovely and warm!”

“Sshh, you’ll wake up the whole hotel! Stay there. I’ll bring down your robes.”

Miranda closed the balcony window and withdrew, picked up the two robes hanging on the door, then slipped back next door to her room, pulled on her black and gold swimsuit, wrapped herself back up in the large fluffy robe she had, and disappeared out of the darkened room. Andrea, luckily, remained fast asleep. 

The twins were right, the pool was open for business and the water was very pleasantly warm. She sank into it, and enjoyed floating about while they frolicked like dolphins, diving under each other. They heeded her instructions though about not disturbing other guests, and after twenty minutes or so, they all sat together at one of the little tables by the pool, wrapped up in the large robes, and chatted quietly. 

“Tell us again how you knew Uncle Charles was our Uncle Charles, and not anyone else’s!” demanded Caroline, still trying to get her head round the revelations. 

“Well, to begin with, I didn’t. I just had a sort of thrilling feeling. I felt quite sick. I nearly fainted.”

“Oh Mom!”

Cassidy was more prosaic. “I nearly fainted when Dudley Grimball tore his big toenail off at school one day, but that didn’t make me think he was my brother!”

Miranda laughed. “Ugh. No. Well, I think this was because subconsciously I recognised my mother’s face in Charles’. You know my Mom died when I was four, but I’d seen her every day of my life until then, except for the weeks she’d been in hospital. He looks just like her. The same eyes especially.”

“Tell us the whole story one day, won’t you Mommy?” asked Caroline, although she knew some parts of the story would have to wait until their Mom felt stronger, or they were old enough to understand it. She had an old soul, did Caroline. She reached over and held Miranda’s hand.

“Of course I will, darling, but it would take far too long now. Just understand how happy this has made me, and how lovely it will be for you to have a nice Uncle and a wonderful cousin, as well as me and Andy, and your Dad and Cindy of course.”

“And the Bump, when he comes.”

“Yes, and the Bump.”

“We haven’t said Happy Birthday to you yet, Mom! Happy Birthday!”

“Let’s go back to our room, so we can give you our presents.”

“Yes, and let’s wake Andy! Why is she still asleep? It’s nearly lunch time!”

Miranda escorted them inside and up in the elevator. By their body clocks, she supposed it would be nearly lunch time. 

She made them shower off the swimming pool treatment salts, and dress in the pleasant summer outfits Cindy and Cara must have found for them. Then they all went into Miranda’s suite where Andrea was sitting up in bed, her hair sticking out at all angles. 

“My goodness, you’ve all been swimming without me? How mean!”

“Mommy said you’d worked really hard and needed your sleep, but I don’t know what she meant,” declared Cassidy. “What work have you been doing? Is it your book?”

“Yes darling,” lied Andrea. “I’m sure that’s what she meant. Now let me order us all some breakfast while you give Mom your presents. I want to see them too.”

Andrea knew pretty much what the twins had chosen, as she’d taken them shopping to buy them, but she saw a whole pretty basket of small packages emerge, so they must have enhanced the main gifts with some extras. 

Miranda had changed out of her damp swimsuit into a matching pair of Donna Karen separates and now sat at their small dining table to unwrap her goodies. There were the obligatory home-made cards to open first. The twins had always made these since they were tiny, so by now it was a family tradition.

Cassie had attempted a portrait of Miranda lying flat on her back. The stick like figure with a mop of grey hair definitely resembled a corpse.

“Hmm?”

“That’s you Mom. You’ve passed out with shock, because it’s your 50th!”

“Oh yes, highly amusing, darling. Thank you for that!”

“You’ll like mine better!” said Caroline, confidently, as Miranda tugged open the second envelope. The card’s cover was full of faces, both twins, Pumpkin’s furry orange face, Matilda’s little white one, Andy smiling, and looking remarkably like her, and then a whole second row of more personalities, Cara, Sophia her Italian teacher, Roy the driver and behind him someone who was definitely Nigel. Caroline, at eleven, was a brilliant cartoonist and could catch a likeness. Inside were the words, “We all wish you a very Happy Birthday!” Then lots of xxs. 

“I finished it on the plane coming over, but I couldn’t include Emily and Serena because there wasn’t room, and anyway I still think Emily is rather snobby.”

It took a few moments for the penny to drop. Then Miranda said, “It’s brilliant darling. Both cards are. But what do you mean about Emily and Serena?”

Before Andrea could jump in and stop her, Caroline explained, “Oh, they were sitting three rows behind us, with Uncle Nigel.”

“What?? Are you telling me, they are here as well?”

Cassidy said, “Of course. Andy arranged it. Everyone wanted to come for your birthday. Didn’t you know? I wanted Pumpkin and Tilly to come as well, but Daddy said the hotel wouldn’t have room for them. I think it might have done, looking round though. It’s a big place.”

Miranda just stared, very hard, at Andrea, who had the good grace to look a little guilty. 

“Yes, sorry darling. Nigel kind of agreed with me, that we couldn’t let you get away with running away from everyone. They love you so much as well. They all wanted to come to share your birthday with you. I’ve arranged for us to have lunch in the Garden restaurant. It’s on me. That’s my present to you, oh and along with this,” and Andy passed across a little package of her own. 

Miranda absorbed the extent to which she’d been gazumped into yet another party. “So, just to get this straight. My secret escape with you now involves these two, Cass and Caro, my ex-husband and his wife, Hannah and Harry, Nigel, Serena, Emily and anyone else I should know about. . . ?”

“Charles of course, and George, Douglas, Gloria and Lee, and me, to make sixteen.That’s all, I promise. It all starts at Noon, so you can have a really lovely lazy morning beforehand if you like.”

“My flipping aunt!” cried Miranda, reverting to an obscure British expression of exasperation. Then she broke into laughter. 

“Well, my darling. You never cease to amaze me. I never guessed, and I still wouldn’t if the twins hadn’t set me right.”

“Did we let the cat out of the bag? Sorry Andy!”

Caroline had just learned that expression and was pleased to be able to use it.

“Yes, but don’t worry. It’s better to let your Mom in on the secret now, so she can make sure her lipstick is on straight before lunch.”

“Oh yes!” 

“Open your presents now Mom! Go on!”

So Miranda followed their cue, and did open a collection of very sweet presents, including, from Andy, a new version of her favorite lipstick, and from the girls an assortment of special cosmetic goodies, sprays for one’s pillow, a top-end ball-point pen, and a CD of her favorite jazz musician. Caroline had made her a glasses case with Miranda embroidered on it in slightly wobbly chain stitch, and Cassidy had slipped in a handmade green beaded chain to catch the specs round her neck. 

“Now these, these are definitely suitable for a woman of my advanced age,” murmured Miranda, fastening her reading glasses onto the chain.

“Yes, so you can stop nibbling them all the time!” said Cassidy fiercely. “You’re such a baby!”

“I am, aren’t I, darling? In fact, now I’m fifty I’ve decided something. Wonderful as the last half century has been, I have decided to bank it, and start again. Today is the start of the new me! You won’t recognise me!” 

Andy and the girls all grabbed her and simultaneously shouted, “But we love you the way you are! Don’t change!” And that pleased Miranda more than she liked to admit!

The room laid out for lunch looked absolutely lovely, beautifully elegant without being too formal, and Miranda, now that she knew about it, regained her poise and genuinely enjoyed gazing on it and realising how much trouble Andrea had taken, imperceptibly almost, to make her birthday the best one she had ever had. 

All those bitter childhood Januarys when no one had cared, they were all gone and forgotten, and forgiven. She knew now how much she was loved, and how bright her future would be. No need to pass out with shock like the poor woman on Cassidy’s card. 

She spent a very happy hour at the end of the morning, gossiping about Runway with Nigel and the “girls”, and noticed how genuinely fond he seemed to be of Douglas. She decided to forgive the young man once and for all for his previous treatment of Andrea, and welcome him into the ‘family’, for they were like family, with ties of love and loyalty after all. 

Far from looking bowed down with worry over having to be Editor in Chief of Runway, Nigel looked quite ten years younger. Douglas’s company was working wonders for him. 

Andy, meanwhile had returned to the Garden Room, counting chairs and being very puzzled. Her sister Hannah had joined her, seemingly full of high spirits, and she confided in her. 

“I must be losing it. I definitely booked for sixteen, and they’ve put place settings up for eighteen.”

Hannah let out a little giggle, as though she herself was sixteen, not twenty-six.

“I know. That’s down to me. You’ve got two more mystery guests due to arrive any moment!”

“Hey, I’m the one who springs surprises here, not you! Who is it?”

“Not telling. You will have to just wait and see!” And she left Andrea standing, genuinely astonished. Who did Hannah know in Laguna, to invite along at the last minute? It made no sense. 

Noon struck and the company assembled, all round one long table. Charles was seated next to Miranda, with Andy on her other side, and then the twins. The whole group were about to start the meal, but Andrea was very conscious of the two empty places, and felt uncomfortable about their missing mystery guests. 

Then, just as the wine waiters were filling glasses and chinking ice in true Californian fashion, an unmistakeable voice could be heard coming through the lobby behind them. 

“Darn it, young man, I am perfectly capable of using my own legs, thank you, even in these ridiculous fancy shoes!”

“Momma! And Mother!”

“Jenny! How wonderful!”

Miranda and Andrea both cried with delight as they saw who was coming through the door. Andy’s Mom stepped back to allow her mother to enter first, now on two sticks, but for her, dressed up very smartly in a knitted two piece and low heeled court shoes. It made such a change from her normal costume of dirty mac, and rubber boots that for a second Miranda hardly recognised her, but she’d know that voice anywhere.

Momma came across and hugged her fiercely. “Happy Birthday darling. Still gorgeous as ever I see,” she said.

“But . . . how?”

“Well I wasn’t going to miss this for the world. As soon as Hannah told me, I said to Jenny, “Come on, we’re going! Richard can feed the chooks for a few days!”

“We found a flight to LAX and have come down on the shuttle bus. That’s why we’re a little late. Sorry folks!”

Jenny Sachs followed her mother into the garden room, and embraced Andrea warmly. She looked as elegant and beautiful as ever, if a little tousled.

“Look, do start without me. I’ll just book us in at the desk and organise our cases up to our room.”

Miranda turned to her and hugged her very closely. “Oh Jenny, I am so, so happy to see you! I can’t tell you! There is so much to tell . . . “

“I know my love, Hannah has filled me in. Isn’t it wonderful? I promise, I won’t be long. Do start!”

So they did, and a delicious lunch it was too. By some magic, vegan dishes for Jenny miraculously appeared on the table as well as the surf and turf Californian specialities for the others, and the Napa Valley wineries did very well out of the occasion. 

Miranda, wearing a blue dress which exactly matched her shining eyes, looked round at all her family and friends, old and new, and mentally thanked them for the unique contribution each one of them was making to her life. She hadn’t been lying when she’d said to the twins and Andrea that she wanted to start a new life from now on. 

She felt forgiven for all the cynical, sarcastic, nasty things she had ever said, and even more importantly she understood why she had lived like that, under that armour of super-bitchiness, and why there was simply now no need for it any more. 

Andrea had started the healing, by crawling underneath her spikes, and refusing to let her curl back up inside them. She had said in effect. “Miranda Priestly, I know you, I see you, and I love you. Don’t change.” Which of course was the exact key needed to unlock her heart and make change possible.

But this introspection wouldn’t do. Andrea would see to that. She was nodding to the waiters to serve the champagne for a toast and everybody, even Momma and Lee, (who by the way were getting on like a house on fire), stood up, raised their glasses and all shouted with one voice, “Happy Birthday Miranda!”

“And many happy returns!” added Cassidy. 

“Yes, and Many Happy Returns!”

“Speech, speech!” shouted Geoff, tinging his glass with a fork, and Miranda reluctantly rose to her feet. 

“Well, sit down everybody and be quiet. Now, where to begin . . . Of course I am absolutely furious to see all of you here . . . “

And everybody burst into laughter. Miranda hadn’t changed too much after all. That was a relief!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers,  
> I hope you have enjoyed this latest little story, about Miranda’s Birthday. It is my Birthday tomorrow as well, so I’m pleased to finish it on time!  
> Knowing what they get up to, more adventures from our ladies and their friends may well be coming down the pipe-line before too long. But for now, thanks so much for simply reading the stories. There is really no point in writing otherwise, is there?  
> I am very grateful to you all for accompanying me.


End file.
